Alvyn leaps up and pulls himself back onto the bar, a look of intense relief on his face. He hops back down on the other side and lies down in the middle of the floor, taking deep, shaky breaths. “.”
The others are similarly stunned by their previous encounter. Emmitt turns away from the wolf, still nodding his head in reassurance. Marco leans against the wall nearby, catching his breath. Mustering one last bit of energy, he glances over at Leylin, who has sunken back into a wooden chair. “Told you it was werewolves.”
“Did you predict the moose as well, great oracle?”
Marco has no response, still needing some time to recover. Their conversation would be cut short anyway, as once again a voice booms down from the sky.
“YOU MUST THINK YOU’RE ALL BIG HEROES NOW, HUH? CAUSE I’VE CHOSEN NOT TO KILL YOU YET? CAUSE YOU’RE STILL ALIVE IN YOUR TINY HOUSE LIKE A BUNCH OF RATS? DO YOU KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO HAVE BEEN INSIDE WHEN I WOKE UP?”
Everyone tenses back up as the full reality of the situation comes back to them. Marco places his hands back over the swords strapped to his side. Alvyn sits up on the floor and grabs his sickle off the floor, dropped during the recent encounter.
“SO YOU BEAT A COUPLE OF ANIMALS. CONGRATS. WHAT’S YOUR PLAN NOW, SHITMOUNDS? YOU GOING TO JUST STAY IN THERE FOREVER?”
Unable to sit still for very long, Leylin stands up from her chair and walks over towards the balcony. She stops just in front of the moonlight, trying to get a good view outside. She can only make out Skarann’s face in his reflection on the ocean.
“NO, YOU DON’T WANT TO STEP OUTSIDE? WHAT’S WRONG, IS IT TOO COLD OUT?”
Emmitt is standing beside Leylin, trying to get a good view over the balcony. On one side he holds his hand as though he’s holding some kind of weapon, not raised, but at held tightly at the ready. He’s watching for something, but it isn’t clear what it is.
“AGAIN, I CAN’T EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH: I AM THE MOON. THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO BEAT ME. ARE YOU A CELESTIAL BODY? CAN YOU CONTROL THE TIDES? NO, YOU CAN’T, BECAUSE YOU’RE NOTHING.”
“Man, who thought the moon would be such an ass?” Leylin says.
Emmitt takes a step back from the door to the balcony, tightening his grip on whatever unseen weapon he has formulated. Once a sufficient distance from the moonlight, he points over in the direction of what he’s looking at. He barely has to explain himself as the others look over as well. “Friends, uh—"
A tall, thin silhouette becomes visible in the moonlight, ascending up the hill. The face of Edvard, in full human form, is looking back at them. He is naked a side from a few torn rags, and the moose’s injuries do not appear to have carried over.
Leylin gives an uncertain look back towards the others. “Is he…”
“I don’t know,” Emmitt says.
From inside Leylin waves over with both her arms, trying to make eye contact. The others follow suit, trying to signal him over without attracting Skarann’s attention. Edvard wanders up the hill a little more until his body is almost entirely visible, then stops.
“
Edvard looks up at everyone inside the tavern. They are just able to catch the light of the moon in his eyes before there is a flash of red and fiery laser blasts through the center of his body, cutting him in half. Both pieces of him fall to the ground and stumble down the hill. In the reflection on the water, Skarann’s eyes are still glowing with the same fiery red.
“
He emits another round of deep, booming laughter as the party stares outside in horror and rage. Emmitt instinctually raises the weapon in his hand, though to what end, it is unclear.
Leylin leans in towards Emmitt and Marco, speaking softly. “So uh, the moon can fire lasers out of his eyes.”
Emmitt nods. “Uh huh.”
“
“
Emmitt is now pacing around the tavern, walking in a small circuit confined to the area untouched by the light. He is rubbing his temples with one hand, and still holding onto his weapon in the other. “She’s right though, it doesn’t make sense. Maybe that was the rumbling earlier? But then why didn’t it work?”
“Maybe we’re safe in the buildings?” Leylin suggests. “Maybe his lasers just aren’t strong enough.”
“That feels a little optimistic.”
Marco is fidgeting around with the weapons in his hands, twirling them around in a repetitive sequence. Alvyn is standing by the back wall, sickle shaking in his hand at his side.
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“GOOD THEN, YOU BLIGHTED SHITS TAKE ALL THE TIME YOU LIKE, I’M IN NO RUSH. I’LL BE WAITING HERE EITHER WAY.”
The four of them look at each other, each looking for some kind of answers or reassurance. None are to be found. Marco is now tossing his swords up in the air and catching them, taking deep breaths. The others largely keep their faces towards the ground, nothing to say. After a few seconds, Leylin looks back up, resolute. “Well we’re not staying here.”
Marco gives her an uncertain look, catching the sword in his left hand and holding it there. Emmitt is apprehensive as well, but after a pause he nods his head. “You’re right. We stay in here, Skarann is going to pick on some other targets. Travellers, innocent people. And we don’t know when he’s going to stop. He seems to have control over the sky, so I don’t even know if the sun is coming up. We can do just about anything but wait.”
Marco is nodding his head now as well, walking over to the table across the room. For the moment, he puts his swords back in their sheaths. Then he starts to dig through the contents of the barrel that was left for them, placing them on the table. The miniature pots. The crossbow with the grappling hook. The map. The fireworks. “Waiting’s not an option, you’re right. But we can’t just be aimlessly wandering through the woods, either. We need some idea of where to go.”
“We need to find Gabriel.” Emmitt says.
“Agreed.”
Leylin gives a questioning glance through the front doors of the tavern, where the entire road behind them is now completely covered in moonlight. “Do we even think Gabriel is still out there? I mean, if the moon is just everywhere, what are the odds she made it out alive?”
Grim looks all around.
“If we can’t find Gabriel, then we find the weapons she was looking for,” Emmitt says. “Sounds like they were designed for fighting the moon.”
Marco is examining the device that appears to be a grappling crossbow, running his fingers along the different wires and eyeing the system of pulleys. Unimpressed, he places it back down on the table. “I’m not sure what kind of weapons you would need to fight the moon. But after seeing the big face in the sky, I’m willing to believe in just about anything.”
“Do we have any idea where Gabriel is?” Leylin asks.
Emmitt takes a moment to think. “They said she went along the coast, right?”
“I think so,” Marco says. He unfolds the map on the table, laying out an aerial view of the surrounding area. The others approach for a closer look, still careful not to drift too close to the light from the balcony. They appear to be some distance from the actual town of Stockhagen, but there are a number of locations closer to their current position. Marco puts his finger on the first point marked along the coastline. “Temple of Neptus, less than half a mile away. Looks like the warehouse is right beside it, so in theory we can search both buildings without having to worry about Skarann.”
“Once we get there you mean,” Leylin corrects him.
“Yes, that doesn’t answer how we make the first stretch of the journey.”
Emmitt leans forward to examine the proposed route, thinking. He tries to trace the distance between the temple and the warehouse, not quite as optimistic. “I’m not sure we don’t have to worry about Skarann in this gap area here, but they are quite close. Plus if Gabriel was going to go someplace for weapons, a warehouse would make sense.”
“Yeah,” Marco says, “we’ll have to deal with the gap later. I still don’t know how we’re getting to the temple in the first place.”
Emmitt nods, looking back up from the map. “Well, let’s tackle one problem at a time then. First issue: we can’t let our skin touch the moonlight.” He grabs some kind of fabric objects out of his pocket and places them down on the table. Several painted eyes are now looking up at the three of them with their unblinking stare. The masks from the bandits before. “Not what I originally had in mind for them, but much more useful anyway.”
He pulls one over his head, completely covering himself to halfway down the neck. From there, he starts to cover the rest of his body, tying spare rags around his ankles and wrists, and putting on a pair of gloves from his pocket. The outfit is completed by a full-sized scarf wrapped around his neck, which he retrieves from his bag.
Emmitt stands there for a moment, waiting for a response. Marco and Leylin looking over with grins on their faces, unable to hide their amusement. “What? You think we were going to make a fashion statement with the clothes we wear to hide from the giant evil moon?”
“You just had that fancy scarf lying around this whole time?” Marco asks.
Leylin smiles beside him. “Were you planning to go to a gala after this? Very elegant, good man. Most sophisticated. You must be of the very upper crust of fine culture. Your Remoran father would be proud”
Emmitt tosses a mask to each of them, shaking his head in frustration. He starts looking through the objects on the table to decide what to take with them. “I hate both of you. I used to be a professional. And we are discussing my father.” He lifts up one of the miniature pots in front of him, examining the fabric sticking out of it, as though there is a bag of something on the inside. “We should travel light. Take everything that will serve an obvious purpose but leave the rest of it here.”
Leylin is now fully covered with the mask and gloves and spare clothing tied around the gaps. She grabs the and tosses it to the side. “Not going to be doing any of the assigned reading in that case.”
Marco, fully covered as well, takes the grappling crossbow and ties it to his back. He also shoves the map in his pocket and starts to gather up the miniature pots as well. Leylin gives him a look, her precise expression hidden behind the single image of the eye.
“What are those things?”
“Ozbek smoke bombs. We used to take contracts defending trade routes through the central continent. They cover a wide range.”
“Who is “we” in that scenario?” Emmitt asks.
His face is hidden, but Marco still turns away on instinct. He tucks the last of the pots into his pocket. “
Leylin looks towards the front of the building, trying to peer through the space between the large doors at the entrance. She can just make out the shadow of the muskox that was pulling the carriage, still bucking around in a panic. “You think we should go back for the silver?”
Marco shakes his head without a second thought. “The were-creatures seem to bleed either way. No point taking the risk to expose ourselves.”
“Then why was the government distributing them?”
“I don’t know, it’s not like the silver swords are going to cut the werewolves than the regular ones already do.”
Emmitt looks over through the front entrance, seeing the closed trunk of the carriage several yards away. “If I had to guess, the republic doesn’t understand the situation any better than we do. Probably worse, actually, at this point. If our usual weapons work, that’s what we stick to. We fight better with them anyway.”
“Fair enough,” Leylin says.
Marco walks up to the balcony, just in front of where the moonlight is currently shining. He looks at the face of the moon reflected on the water. Skarann’s eyes are no longer glowing red, but he is still floating there in the sky, waiting. Marco takes a step back. “Now we just have to deal with the bigger problem.”
